Searching For Relief
by reginassthief
Summary: Prompt. Missing Year. Whilst looking for his son, Robin stumbles across a grief ridden, almost frozen, Regina, and helps her to move on. Outlaw Queen. Robin's POV.


He hadn't intentionally went looking for her. In an effort to see where Roland was hiding (his boy was due a bath, however much he hated them) Robin had stumbled across her.

The weather had decided to snow today- something it hadn't done for a long time and he'd woke with a four year old bouncing beside him shouting, _Look out of the window, Papa! Look out of the Window! It's all white, Papa! It's all white!_ So honouring Roland's first time seeing snow, he'd taken him outside where they'd spent most of the day. When Robin had naturally glanced up towards the castle, he'd seen her there, watching them. She was too far away for him to make out the expression upon her face, but if it was anything like it was now, he'd wager it wasn't a happy feeling she felt. And it looks like she hadn't left this spot all day.

He moves a step closer, sees her reflection in the window, the tear stains from crying. It moves something in him, makes a lump form in his own throat as he waits.

She's almost blue, he notices. It has to be cold, especially if she's been there since this morning. Can imagine the cold drafts blowing through the tiny cracks and slits in the window and around its frame. He wonders if she can even feel it, or she is too caught up in whatever thought she's having, whatever emotion she's feeling.

Either, she should move away from the window.

He approaches her nervously. It's strange. In the time that he's known her, he's never once been nervous around her, never once hesitated to send some barb or another, never once had second thoughts of annoying her. Now, though, seeing her so raw, mask gone and so obviously hurting, it changes something in him. Has him both wanting to comfort her as well as run away, retreat to his chamber and imagine her as the fiery queen he's heard and met.

But he won't do that to her. Everyone's done that to her. She'll fight him, tell him to go away, but he knows, deep down, she's drowning in loneliness. He just _knows._

So he sits down on the hard ledge, creates a good distance between them. Gods, it's cold, he thinks as the wind blows roughly, little swirls breaking through the cracks but he resists a shiver.

He waits for her to say something. Waits for her to tell him to go away, make some nasty, anger infused comment about what he is, where he comes from, but it doesn't come. Instead he gets a; "Go on, say it. Say something."

Robin frowns. It seems like she was waiting for the same thing he was and, just as equally, he's not going to give it to her.

"I'm not going to say anything, milady."

She sniffles at that. Looks back towards the window. "Would make it easier if you did." she mumbles.

"Make what easier?"

She almost says it. There's that crack in the wall, just a tiny one. The mask may be gone but the wall is still up and she covers that crack before it can spread. Covers it with a _Nothing._

He shouldn't push her. Should leave her. She clearly doesn't want to talk. Yet, she does. He can see it, behind those glassy brown eyes that are usually filled with hate and fire, he can see the desperation to talk to someone. But she won't let herself. _Something_ won't let her, and that hurts him as much as it hurts her.

"Regina." he says and he reaches out, his hand catching hers and she's as cold as she looks. Hands like ice and he almost pulls away. Almost. Instead, he brings his other one over, takes her freezing hands into his warm ones and begins to gently rub his palms against her hand, trying to spread heat into them.

She looks so tired. Eyes drooping slightly but she forces them to remain open, blinks multiple times to do so and this isn't how somebody should live. They shouldn't spend hours at a window sill, lamenting on a past time, hanging around in the past. That's what he suspects she's been doing; forever living in the past, never moving forward, never letting herself move on. He knows because he's done it to and almost lost his son because of it.

"I miss him."

He just catches it. It's like a whisper and he almost misses it. Something that's almost caught in the sound of the hard wind outside. A tiny confession, something she didn't want to admit. Tears form in her eyes again and it twists Robin's inside. He shouldn't care, he tells himself. She's nothing to him. But she's everything to him, too. He won't see her for a day and he'll find himself missing her. Just like today. It's why his eyes had scanned the castle windows, in a hope to see her. And he did. Exactly like she is now and he'd smiled, arrogant to why she was by that window.

"Your son." Robin says. He'd heard the hushed whispers, caught the ends of sentences as he went about his day around the castle. Caught words like _Henry_ , _Her son_ , _He brought her out of the darkness, you know, and now everyone's scared she'll slip back into it and we'll have the Wicked Witch_ _ **and**_ _the Evil Queen on our hands._ Robin doesn't believe that, though.

She nods at that. Brushes a fallen tear away angrily with the hand he's not holding still and it's strange how natural it feels, to just hold her hand. He's stopped rubbing it, stopped trying to warm it up, so it just sits there, trapped within his own two with neither of them making the move to pull away.

"Seeing you with Roland today," she says, voice croaky and cracking in places. "It reminded me of the first time Henry saw snow."

Robin smiles slightly at the thought. Can imagine Henry being just as Roland was this morning, running into his mother's room, jumping on the bed. She's imaging it to. When he looks up, he sees a low light in her eyes as she remembers. It's accompanied by grief but there's something else there, too, joy in remembering something so pure and poignant.

"It was just after Christmas and he'd asked me why it didn't snow on the day like it did on films,"

Robin listens, unsure of what Christmas and films are but can imagine they mean a great deal to Regina. He nods and she carries on.

"The next day, he'd woken up and outside was just covered in this white blanket. All manners were forgotten when he ran into my room and jumped on me, saying that his wish had come true."

She takes her hand from his gasp, brings it to her and sits up against the wall, placing a foot on the ledge, her hand running over the material on her knee.

"I didn't understand at first. But then he'd pulled back the curtain and it was snowing. It mustn't have been snowing when he first looked out the window because his eyes lit up as he watched it fall. I knew then. He'd wished for it to snow and it had."

She looks back out of the window, eyes cast towards the tall trees that can just be made out by the small lantern still lit outside.

"Watching you and Roland today...The snow alone reminded me of those days went playing outside until Henry's nose was red, his gloves damp and it was time to go inside before either of us got ill," She laughs a little, Robin letting out a little huff, too, before her expression turns sombre. "But seeing Roland today, and his joy and excitement...It hurt." she admits and Robin frowns, eyes cast dark as she tells him of how seeing the two of them today made her slightly jealous.

"I know it's wrong," she says, head falling downcast, toying with parts of her dress. "But all I wanted to do was grab Henry and take him outside, join in with all the snowball fights and snowman making. But then I realised I couldn't, and that feeling came back." She shifts and Robin waits, an idea forming in his head. He's unsure, though. Unsure if it'll just bring her more pain or perhaps lift some of it for her.

"Snow White was wrong," she says and Robin frowns again. It's not the first time Regina's ever said Snow White was wrong, says it on a daily basis in fact, but he curious as to know what Snow White as to do with this conversation.

"It doesn't get easier. Because when you think it does, it comes back stronger than before."

Robin ponders that philosophy for a moment. Thinks back to his own wife, lost to him forever. He can think on every memory they've shared together, every moment they've ever had and it does come with an essence of sadness, but he can deal with that now. Maybe it's because he's moved on and she hasn't. Because she's always living in a time that's gone and he isn't.

"Regina," he says. Her voice is soft when she answers _yes_ and it takes him away for a moment, makes him realise that he likes this open Regina, maybe less of the grieving that comes with it, but this is _Regina_ someone he feels incredibly honoured to meet.

"If it's still snowing tomorrow," he says, treading unsure. The arrow could hit the target perfectly, or it could miss by a millimetre and he'd never have the chance to try again. "Perhaps you would like and join me and Roland outside?"

He waits, glancing up slowly, heart thumping against his rib cage, scared of the response that meets him, the minutes of silence passing treacherously.

Though he finds no reason to be scared. Her expression is soft, eyes full of gratefulness, something rarely seen as she answers.

"I'd like that."

It has a smile spreading across his face, one she reciprocates back as the atmosphere around them shifts, that grief and sadness lifting and making way for something nicer, _happier._

He may be the one to help her move on after all. Something he'll gladly accept.


End file.
